


Doubling Back

by chankapaana



Category: NewS (Band)
Genre: Closure, Gen, for me more than anyone else, nishikido leaving j&a
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-14 01:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20592563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chankapaana/pseuds/chankapaana
Summary: He hears it from Maru first: Dear Kato Shigeaki, I have an announcement.





	Doubling Back

He hears it from Maru first.

It comes in the form of a LINE message, a week or so after they last see each other. The notification lights up his cell phone early in the morning, where he grasps for it across the bed, squinting in the dim first rays of the morning. Why is he awake? Why is Maru awake?

It’s 5am. 5:12, to be exact. That would make sense, Maru has a morning show on Saturdays, so he’s probably just woken up to be whisked off to the studio. It’s not rare to receive messages from him late at night, so the early morning text is unusual if anything.

He’s barely slept. Yesterday, as all Fridays are, was an early morning shoot for him as well. Bibitto, now in its final days, remains as hectic as ever, so to compensate, he’d taken a short nap through lunch before going off to a photoshoot, then settled down at home to write. He’d been struck with inspiration and had spent the evening typing like a man possessed, hunched over the keyboard until the words stopped coming. At 2am, exhausted and barely awake, he’d dragged himself into bed where a sudden overwhelming restlessness and unease washed over him, rather than the usual sweet beckoning of slumber.

Although his mind was largely blank, having been emptied through his fingers onto a word processor document only a few hours ago, something turbulent remained raging in his chest and throat. Discontent? Acid reflux? For a moment he had wondered if he was merely hungry, and so he had gotten up and blearily stared into his refrigerator for a few minutes before deciding it wasn’t worth the hassle to cook.

So he took an antacid and returned to bed, where he tossed and turned for three hours until, through sheer coincidence, he briefly opened his eyes and saw his phone lighting up with a notification.

And so now, phone in hand, he taps the screen to see what it is.

Squinting to see the screen, Maru’s message shows the preview:

_Dear Kato Shigeaki_

Strange. Why the formality all of a sudden, he wonders, and swipes upward to unlock the phone. LINE takes him straight there, where the message is uncharacteristically and entirely black text on white, not a single emoticon in sight. It’s so long, in fact, that he can only see the bottom half of the last sticker that Maru sent him a few days ago.

_Dear Kato Shigeaki_

_I have an announcement._

_At the end of September, our member Nishikido Ryo will depart from Johnny’s & Associates. I imagine this news may come as a surprise. However, it is of his own will that he will be leaving the agency, and therefore Kanjani8 as well._

The news barely registers in his exhausted mind. The message goes on:

_The first time we discussed diverging on separate paths was at the beginning of March. Nishikido had been deeply affected by Shibutani’s departure from the agency and Yasuda’s series of illnesses, and began to consider his future. In order to discover his own brand of entertainment, he has decided to leave the agency._

_After many long discussions, we have decided to continue Kanjani8 as five members. We discussed breaking up the group, but we cannot betray the trust and hopes that our fans have for us._

_I had hoped to reveal this to you earlier, but I sincerely hope that you understand the reasons that I could not._

_Maruyama Ryūhei_

Another message arrives as he reads, now written in casual language but still devoid of emoticons.

_Sorry, Shige. I wanted to tell you last week when we were hanging out. But I wanted to give him at least a chance.  
_ _Are you surprised? Did you know already?  
_ _We’ll be announcing it next Thursday to the fan club, so I wanted to let you know before then._

And then, one more:

_Did you hear from Ryo-chan?_

And another:

_Are you awake?  
_ _Sorry if I woke you up!_

He doesn’t respond. Maruyama stops sending messages, and he puts his phone down—face down, just in case—before opening it back up to reread the messages.

And then he laughs. And he laughs.

And he laughs.

And then he cries, half out of exhaustion and half out of the insufferable howling of his heart.

He hasn’t seen Nishikido for a while. Not even during Countdown, since NEWS was in Kyocera Dome on their own. Technically he saw him through the screen, all those blown up pixels, but in person? It had to have been the tribute performances in July, a glimpse on the stage or in the wings.

The first thing he wants to do is to call Nishikido, but he doesn’t have his phone number. He scrolls through his LINE contacts, but doesn’t seem to have him there either. Not even WhatsApp has Nishikido’s new number registered, just the old one. He remembers calling that one once, late at night from a hotel room in Hiroshima while watching an ice cube melt on the table, only to find the line disconnected.

Composed, adult Kato Shigeaki no longer pretends not to cry. He cried then, deep in self-loathing and embarrassment, and he cries now, curled under his summer bedspread under the grey dawn.

For whom? For Nishikido? For Maruyama and the rest of Kanjani? Or for himself?

It doesn’t last for very long. Soon the tears dry up and he’s left with a headache and blocked nasal passages. He sniffs deeply as he sits up and rolls his head around, trying to find the right angle to clear his nose and his mind at once.

He messages Maruyama back.

_Thank you for telling me.  
__I don’t know Nishikido-kun’s contact information, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have my number. But I’m glad I heard it from you, Maruyama-kun._

Maru’s probably in transit, so his response comes immediately.

_Are you okay, Shige?  
_ _If you need anything, let me know._

He responds too.

_I’m fine. I’m more worried about you._  
_I know what it’s like to lose a member, so reach out anytime.  
__I realize you went through it last year, but…  
__Kanjani8 is strong. You can overcome anything._

His message is read, and Maru replies with a sticker. _Thanks!_ the smiling ghost shouts, noncommittal but reassuring.

He puts his phone down again, the pressure of his swollen eyes and nose difficult to bear. Laying down makes it worse, but it doesn’t matter. He’s tired. It’s time to sleep. He can deal with it when he wakes up.

Waking up is the easy part. It’s facing reality that is difficult. So he doesn’t for a while, just sits back down at his laptop and starts editing.

In the early afternoon, Koyama sends the group chat an adorable picture of Milk, and Tegoshi retaliates with a slideshow of Emma in one of her many outfits. Half of them are indistinguishable from each other, which Massu is quick to point out when Shige doesn’t.

He sends a few stickers when he realizes that it’s been too long between his reading the message and his response, which prevents Koyama from messaging him asking how his writing is going.

Instead he messages Koyama.

_Do you have Nishikido-kun’s phone number?_

Koyama is supposed to be at the gym, but his response is immediate.

_Probably, but what’s up? Did something happen?_

_No, no. I just thought maybe I should say hi, since it’s been a while._

_What~? Wow Shige, how courageous! Even Tegoshi won't call Ryo-chan on the phone.  
_ _Wouldn’t LINE be easier? Want me to connect you?_

_No, just the number is fine. LINE has too many steps._

Koyama asks no further questions, just messages him the number. He leaves Koyama’s message unread just in case he forgets. It’s 7pm by the time he finishes rereading and editing what he wrote the previous night.

When he finally looks at his phone again, he scrolls through his new messages, leaving Koyama’s for last. As usual, the managers are reminding them of future appointments—tomorrow he has to meet a publisher, Koyama has an early morning meeting for his show, Massu needs to look over the script for Netapare, Tegoshi has to fill out paperwork for a visa to Uruguay for ItteQ. In the NEWS group chat, nothing new is going on. In another, one of his college friends recently got engaged, and sent that group chat an announcement. He doesn’t participate in that one much, but he sends a simple congratulations message. One of his other friends is asking about pickling plums—that reminds him he has to get to hanging his up to dry—and another jokes that the next time he catches a tuna, they’ll drive down from Iwate just to pick some up.

He types out quick responses where necessary, sends stickers where it is sufficient. Maruyama hasn’t messaged him since, and that’s not surprising. He’s probably overloaded with his own issues.

Speaking of which, Shige finally opens up Koyama’s message. Koyama has sent him a few since then, mostly random thoughts, so he sends a laughing sticker and scrolls up to the phone number.

Nishikido’s phone number. Shige hasn't memorized a phone number since he was in middle school, when he got his first cell phone, but traces his eyes over the digits. A random assortment of digits. If he thinks hard enough he can maybe find a pattern, the way he used to as a kid to remember phone numbers. Mom’s had three 9’s in a row, Dad’s had two repeating pairs. Grandma’s was mostly odd numbers. This one, this one—

—he holds his thumb down on it and selects call before he can talk himself out of it. It’s there now, in his phone history. He can look for the pattern later if he wants.

It rings, the sound faint. At least it’s not disconnected this time. For a moment he wonders what would happen if Koyama had the wrong number, and some random person picked up. His phone number would be left forever in their call history. If it’s not anyone he knows, he can just say it was a wrong number. He doesn’t even have to leave a message.

No such luck.

“Shige?” comes the hoarse voice, staticky and crackly. He can barely hear it through the phone, but Nishikido sounds tired, as usual. Shige lifts the phone to his ear. “You’re finally calling,” he chuckles, then falls silent.

“How did you know it was me?” is all he can manage.

“Why? Because Maru told me. ‘I informed Shige today,’ he said."

“I see."

And again, silence. Usually he doesn’t have to think about what he’s going to say, just starts and finds the ending somewhere along the way. Writing is the same; he’s always started at the beginning and finished at the end, editing back the parts so the plot points fall together more neatly. But now he can’t even start, so Nishikido starts for him.

“Don’t you have something to say to me?"

“Ah,” he starts, then falters again. “It’s been a while." 

“That’s it? Yeah, it’s been a while. Come on, about me quitting the agency. Say something.” Nishikido’s laughing an awful lot for someone who cried when Shibutani left the company. 

“’Say something’? I heard all the reasons from Maruyama-kun. I don’t think I’m in a position to say anything."

“You serious? You haven’t changed a bit. You are, aside from Kanjani, the most entitled to say something about this, aren’t you? Take a minute, think about it. When you find what you want to say to me, call back.” And then Nishikido hangs up.

And so Shige is left sitting at his desk, phone pressed against his ear, wondering why he, of all people, has to be subjected to this.

For a moment he thinks about announcing it to NEWS, and imagines their reactions. Everyone would be shocked, but Koyama would be the most vocal about his surprise. He would also be the first to cycle through the entire spectrum of emotions until he reaches acceptance, probably within the hour. Tegoshi would sulk for a bit, then brighten up within 24 hours and end the discussion with some kind of lengthy diatribe about pursuing what you want in life. Massu would probably stew on it the longest, taking his time to sort through his feelings before responding. He might even talk to Nishikido about it before saying anything to the rest of them.

Somehow, that doesn’t seem fair to them. It doesn’t seem fair to Nishikido either.

He finally lowers his phone and flicks through LINE, opening Maru’s message thread again. He rereads the messages, trying to think of what he could even say to Nishikido. What does Nishikido want from him?

_Sorry, Shige. I wanted to tell you last week when we were hanging out. But I wanted to give him at least a chance._

He pauses.

_Are you surprised? Did you know already?_

_Did you hear from Ryo-chan?_

Why would Maru expect him to have heard from Nishikido already?

He thinks long and hard, writing abandoned in favor of searching through his old messages and emails for anything from Nishikido. Unsurprisingly, there aren’t many. Short messages, most of them exchanged before either of them changed their numbers. Shige’s always extensively backed up the contents of his inboxes, so he has things dated from over a decade ago. _Hurry up_, some of them say. _We’re editing the lyrics tomorrow so don’t forget your laptop. Cut your hair. Lend me that book sometime. I have a meeting with Kanjani so everyone else, go home early_. 

Most of them are commands. Shige can’t even remember what they’re in relation to, what books he lent Nishikido or what meetings he must have been running late to. Rarely did they exchange messages without a purpose, and so their written correspondence seems to entirely be unidirectional, Nishikido barking orders at Shige and Shige responding obediently. He knows, rereading them, that at the time he had been sometimes irritated, often sullen, but most of the messages read blankly, emotionless. His computer doesn’t register the old emoticons, if they used any, so all he has is the plain text to sift through.

Nothing much comes out of it. What could he say?_ I hope that by now, you've learned to say “please.” If not, please ask your new agency to help you learn how to._

Petty and pointed, but not at all how he feels now. It’s hardly appropriate, since Shige’s long past being upset at Nishikido for his messages from a decade ago.

What about their previous conversations? He leans back in his chair and thinks, closing his eyes to try and remember the last time they talked face to face.

They don’t talk in private; hell, they haven’t even talked in public since the last time Kanjani was on Shounen Club Premium. The last time they met outside of work was probably all those years ago, when Shige had cried silently in the booth while Nishikido railed on him and his book and his work ethic. He’d managed to turn it into a story with a positive outcome, but upon returning home that night, he had climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling all night, plotting out his future to be better than Nishikido would ever expect of him.

_Keep working. Work harder. Work harder than anyone else._

Isn’t that it though? He opens his eyes. It’s already nearly midnight—he must have spent hours sifting through those old emails. Nishikido’s drunken rambling from all those years ago is soaked into his exhausted brain, a permanent beat against his eardrums. Why didn’t it hit him sooner? He hears it each time he considers abandoning a short story just because things aren’t working out the way he wants, when late night meetings are running over and he just wants to be _done_, and most predictably, when he’s drinking alone and writing music, because that’s when Nishikido’s existence lingers like a mist over his eyes, a distant ringing in his ears.

Nothing he’s done is for Nishikido. But everything he’s done is, in some infinitesimal way, because of Nishikido.

He doesn’t call back. He crawls into bed and falls asleep. In the morning, he wakes up at a normal time, showers, gets into the car, and drives to his meeting. He goes home. He writes more of his novel. The next day, he writes more and watches an old silent film, then practices dancing in his living room. Then the next day, he writes, then goes to the gym and then goes to record his radio show. He listens to old music on the drive home, humming along with Flower Companyz as he speeds along the highway: _I’m glad I’m alive, I’m glad I’m alive. I’m glad I’m alive—I’m searching for a night that makes me feel that way._

He finds himself parked outside of Koyama’s apartment. For a moment, he considers letting himself in to lay on the couch and complain about his writing, but they’ll see each other tomorrow anyway, and he’s forgotten his antihistamines at home. So he calls his mother instead. She’s asleep. He calls his best friend from college. He’s a father of two now, so he’s asleep too.

He calls Maru. Maru declines the call and messages him quickly that he’s in a meeting, and to message him.

He calls Yuto, who is happy to hear from him. Yuto invites Shige out to drink if he’s not busy, but he has to drive so he declines. They talk about JUMP’s upcoming single, the typhoon that is approaching, how hot the summer was. Shige drops it as if testing the waters.

“Yuto, what do you think of Nishikido-kun?"

“What? Uh, right,” Yuto muses for a moment. “He’s a great actor, he’s good-looking, but he’s terrifying. Why do you ask?"

“No reason." 

“But Kato-kun, you don’t really like him, right?"

“That’s not true.” He finds himself denying it, laughing it off as if Yuto is making a bad joke. “Why do you think so?”

“You know, after I finished filming_ Pink and Gray,_ we went out for drinks that one time. What did you say again? ‘It’s all his fault, Yuto, you can be grateful to him, but I’m certainly not, not a single iota.’ Something like that? Sorry, I was kind of tipsy, so the memory’s a little fuzzy. But it really left an impression on me, so I remembered your mini speech, more or less."

Shige is stunned. He has no memory of that. “I… said that?"

“You did. Probably."

He falls silent for a moment, listening to Yuto mumble something about not _really _remembering that well. “Sorry, let’s go out next time. Bye, Yuto."

“Okay!" 

And so he sits, in the dark of his car, outside Koyama’s apartment, considering the obvious. Watching the empty side streets, it feels like the entire world is silent around him, ready to stand up and scream at the next big piece of news.

Thursday, Maru had said. He has one more day. Tomorrow won’t do, it’s not a day for confrontation. It has to be tonight.

His fingers shake as he swipes through his call history. Which number was it? He forgets, now, having made so many calls in the last few days for novel research and to confirm meetings. Which one? He thinks back to staring the number, but he can’t visualize it; it just brings back the feeling of his anxiety then, the sound of Nishikido’s tired rasp over the phone.

Shige gives up. He puts his car into drive, signals before he pulls away from the curb, and lets himself drive until he’s wherever he thinks is right.

The doorman examines Shige carefully. He seems to recognize him, but refuses to let him upstairs unless he knows which apartment he’s headed to. Shige is frustrated; he knows that this is Nishikido’s building, remembers it from years ago when the manager used to pick him up, then Nishikido, but can’t remember the apartment number. He’s surprised Nishikido hasn’t moved, but he supposes that in some way, it’s a blessing.

He’s on the verge of googling old pictures of himself with Nishikido to prove that they know each other—probably futile because the doorman _knows who he is—_but then Nishikido walks through the sliding glass doors, wallet in hand, and when he’s three steps past Shige, he doubles back.

“Ah." 

Nishikido doesn’t grin at him, doesn’t greet him. He just turns on his heel and beckons him through the automatic doors, held open by the doorman.

Shige bows to the doorman, half in apology and half in a “see I told you,” then rushes after Nishikido into the lobby where they get into an elevator and ride, upward and upward. 

Wordlessly he follows Nishikido down the hall and into his apartment. Nishikido doesn’t put out slippers, so he toes off his shoes and treads across the wood flooring in his socks. The apartment smells like old tobacco; unlike Koyama, Nishikido hasn’t given up traditional cigarettes for vaping yet.

Nishikido gestures toward the living room. Shige eyes the couches and the chaise, and is still considering them idly when Nishikido returns from the kitchen with two cans of sparkling water. 

“Tomorrow we have that thing, so you good with this?” Nishikido tosses him one of the cans and plops down on the couch.

“Thanks." He pops the tab and sits when Nishikido pats the couch next to him. The couch faces one of the wide windows of the apartment, where Shige can see Ikebukuro sprawling dazzlingly underneath them. For a while he sips the sparkling water. Lime, unsweetened. Nishikido burps next to him.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Nishikido suddenly turns to him and spreads his arms out. ”Say it."

Shige is caught off guard, but he places his can on the coffee table and folds his hands together, still staring toward the window.

“Hurry up, we have an early morning tomorrow.” Nishikido shakes his arms a little, as if to indicate that he is ready to catch all that Shige throws at him.

”I don’t hate you, Nishikido-kun.”

“That it? I know that.” Nishikido looks disappointed, almost, lowering his arms. 

”That’s not it. It’s true: I don’t hate you. But before all this, I didn’t really like you very much either."

Nishikido doesn’t say a word, just nods. Shige takes a breath. He has a conclusion in mind for once, but the path to get there feels like it’s going to be long and arduous.

“You were always yelling, 'do this, do that,' so I believed that I couldn’t communicate properly with you. I went through your old mails to me, and they all ended with some sort of command, you know? And when you decided to leave NEWS with Yamashita-kun, you didn’t say a single word to us beforehand. I was honestly pissed. I resented you."

“That’s from a long time ago. Kind of nostalgic, thinking about our old messages.” Nishikido chuckles, folding his arms over his chest. “When did we stop sending mails to each other?”

“When you left NEWS.”

“Right. You’re right, sorry. Keep going.”

Shige takes a moment to chase down his train of thought. “From the time you left NEWS, until the time Maruyama-kun invited me to drink with you, I was probably angry with you. I knew, of course, that you had your reasons for leaving, but deep down inside, I still felt like you were throwing us away. So I was really upset with you.”

“Right, that night, you looked upset."

“And then there, do you remember? You were drunk and started insulting my book left and right.”

“Right, I did. I remember. What was it? You have such a great imagination, so why the hell did you write a book about the entertainment industry?”

“That’s right. You told me that because I was writing about the entertainment industry, I was putting the idol part of me before the writer part of me, and therefore I’d never be taken seriously by the literary world. Fuck idols. Fuck Shibuya. Fuck homoerotic subtext."

“I saw the movie. It was pretty good."

“That aside, Nishikido-kun,” Shige turns his head to look at Nishikido, who is sitting there contemplatively. “Why didn’t you tell me directly?”

“Why? Didn’t you say you were glad you heard it from Maru?” Nishikido’s answer is evasive, and he’s staring at the can in his hands now. 

“He apparently told me because you didn’t take the chance he left for you,” Shige responds, flicking through his messages again to pull up the chat. Nishikido scrolls down and gestures at the message Shige sent, but Shige just shakes his head. Not this time. “Why would he think that I might have heard it from you already?” 

Nishikido is silent for a while. Shige has already decided to wait, to plot out in advance all the ways this could go.

“That’s because,” Nishikido finally says. “Koyama would tell everyone, so I didn’t want to tell him first. Tegoshi on the other hand would accept it pretty easily, so I figured I could tell him later. I still talk to Massu sometimes, so I’d feel bad if I said anything. I told Yamapi in June. So that left you.”

“And so?"

“That’s it. I was going to tell you. I even asked Maru for your number. But, you know, phone calls in this day and age are kind of difficult. If you answered, what would I even say? So I let him tell you instead."

Shige sits there, putting the pieces together. “That’s why you knew it was me when I called you."

“Yeah, I had your number saved."

They are silent for a while, and Shige can hear the popping and fizzling of the carbonation left in his can. Nishikido has already drained his, the can crinkling between his hands. 

“Is that all?” Nishikido mumbles, breaking the heavy silence. “I need to go to bed soon then."

“No, I still had a little bit to say."

“Let me hear it.”

“Do you know what you’re going to do after this? I know that you’ll be okay no matter what—you know so many people in both entertainment and music. I know. I know, but…"

“But?"

“You can’t be easy on yourself."

Nishikido laughs at this.

“Keep working. Work harder. Work harder than anyone else. Didn’t you tell me that?"

“Yeah, that night. You talked about it on TV once right?"

“I did. I can’t forget."

“What the hell then! Thank me."

“I can’t be grateful to you. But if you hadn’t said that, then I wouldn’t be who I am today. Those words pushed me forward, so they’re always reverberating in my mind." 

“Ha."

Shige closes his eyes, hears Nishikido from all those years ago, still ringing against his eardrums. “That’s why, Nishikido-kun, you have to keep working. Work harder. Work harder than anyone else. I wanted to say this to you. I’m going to be watching your work from now on, so if you let down the fans, I won’t forgive you."

He expects Nishikido to laugh, to make a jibe about how even though he’s a writer, all he’s doing is turning Nishikido’s own words back onto him. Cat got your tongue, writer’s block, you sure you don’t have a ghostwriter, all your readers should demand their money back.

Instead, Nishikido slams down his can on the coffee table and stands up. Shige flinches, almost expecting to get hit or something with how sudden the movement is.

Instead Nishikido steps past him and disappears into the hallway. Shige hears some bangs, a door being slammed shut, then the fridge door opening and closing. Nishikido returns a mere minute later, three books in tow and two cans of beer cradled in one arm.

“I borrowed these from you. Sorry it took ten years to get them back to you."Nishikido sets the books and one beer on the table in front of Shige. The other beer he opens and, still standing, downs a long swig. He sighs heavily, satisfied, then plops back down on the couch. “Ah, that’s good. Refreshing. Drink, Shige."

“Another command?” Shige chuckles, but takes the beer and opens it. “Thanks."

“Let’s cheers.” Nishikido clangs his can against Shige’s before he can even respond. “To a new path in life."

“Lame.” Shige drinks anyway, the beer cold and refreshing as the effervescence pops against his throat on the way down. 

Nishikido eyes him as he lowers the can. “You’re not angry with me anymore, right?"

“I’m not angry. Just a little sad,” Shige admits, shaking his head. “I used to really want to be friends with you. Now that you’re leaving the agency, I feel like I’ve lost my chance again."

“I couldn’t be your friend anyway,” Nishikido answers, clapping a hand on Shige’s shoulder. Lucky he’s not right-handed, or he’d spill his beer with the force of Nishikido’s arm. “I’m your _motivation_."

“Huh?!" 

“You might not feel grateful to me now, but someday you will."

Shige just laughs. And he laughs. And he laughs. 

He cries again when he gets in the car. Just a little, for the hell of it, to make sure that nothing is left unfinished.

The drive home is clear sailing, and when he arrives home he tosses his old books onto the kitchen table and climbs into bed. He has to be up in a few hours.

Everyone else hears from one of their managers after the ceremony that day. It’s a hard day for everyone involved, and this only makes the day harder. 

But just as expected, Koyama talks through all of his feelings in fifteen minutes, while Tegoshi’s face slowly changes from sullen to accepting on the car ride home. The next evening, Massu texts the group that he talked to Nishikido about it earlier in the day, right before the mass media storm hit when the official announcement went out. 

And that’s it. And that’s fine.

And that’s where we are now.

**Author's Note:**

> Please note I originally wrote the dialogue and messages in Japanese, then translated them back into English so it might seem more repetitive than if I'd actually written it in English first whoops.
> 
> The song is "Shinya Kōsoku" by Flower Companyz. Shige spoke about Nishikido telling him to 頑張れ、もっと頑張れ、誰よりも頑張れ first on Chikarauta (where "Shinya Kōsoku" is discussed as well), then on Bibitto last Friday when commenting on Nishikido's departure from the agency. Yes, I do just have a mental list of all the interactions the two have had, on-screen and off, since 2011.


End file.
